


Mother, May I?

by o0MistressMine0o



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Finger Sucking, Frottage, Isabela and Iron Bull need to fuck it out, Kissing, Mommy Kink, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Platonic BDSM, True Switch Iron Bull, Vaginal Fingering, and I'm bummed they don't have enough love, like c'mon, mature Isabela, they'd be such a fun pair, waltzing into skyhold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0MistressMine0o/pseuds/o0MistressMine0o
Summary: “A big brutish fellow, like yourself, must be the talk of everyone’s wet daydreams” Isabela all but sighed over her tankard; he was unsure if she was teasing him or being sincere, and yet the lingering look that followed as she raked him from ankles to chin caused him to still all movement under her appraising gaze.Not to be outdone he replied with a very simple “I am” offering the Captain a quirked brow and scintillating smirk.  Isabela threw back her head and laughed long and hard from the belly, revealing pearled teeth and a single glinting bead centered in her tongue, a compliment to the one below her full lower lip.“Oh yes” she breathed “ I do believe will we get along just fine.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up from a nice dream and wanted more Isabela and Iron Bull fics only to find very LITTLE online so I had to make my own. Also mature Isabela is ughhhhh woof.. and Iron Bull heartily agrees.

The first time Iron Bull spied the notorious Captain, all he could see was the tall plume of a feather rising up from a bobbing sea of crimson and cream chantry robes. The small hushed voices of the sisters tittered like excited birds while Isabela’s deep smooth laugh wrapped them all conspiratorially closer. There had to be six or seven, all with bright shiny eyes and hands grasping their closest sister, the braver with heated palms resting on the Captain’s mahogany skin.

From the varying shades of inflamed cheeks and hands covering gasping mouths, Iron Bull could only too easily guess the kind of tale the Captain was weaving for her captive audience. All of them too enraptured with a tale of the high sea, adventure, and lusty romance to notice the absolutely predatory wink the Captain threw across the yard at him.

A great jungle cat in the prime of her life, hiding amongst the flock and relishing the youth and innocence of her audience. Iron Bull suppressed a laugh, but a small smile tucked itself into the corner of his mouth despite himself.

Now THERE was an introduction! He knew all about her of course, Captain Isabela was as well known in her home Rivain as she was Kirkwall, Kont-Aar, and Seheron; she was a legend in herself. Of course that bit with the Tome of Kosslun made her infamous, but what’s a little infamy to start the tongue a waggin….. 

______

The second time he saw her, a few weeks later during yet another of her impromptu visits, she was tucked into a shadowy alcove her arm barred across the throat of a scout. The blaring orange of his vestment doing nothing to hide them as the sun sunk to kiss the mountains. There she had him, pinned and gasping into her mouth as her hand worked below the drawstring of his trousers.

He almost felt sorry for the guy. Tighter than a struck bowstring, his bearded mouth gasping and pleading in silent words as desperate hands tried to find purchase on her slick leather coat. She watched the scout intensely, leaning in to whisper, what Iron Bull could only assume would be something drippingly filthy as her pearl like teeth flashed in the dim before sinking into the flushed skin of his neck.

A groan like the breaking of a damn spilled from his throat, the glint of her golden eyes looking sidelong across her charge as she pulled her teeth from his flesh and her hand from his trousers. She gave him a parting kiss, her teeth abusing his bottom lip in a brutal yet intimate farewell as she left him there panting and trying to come back to himself.

The last slat of the sun caught her eyes as she stepped free of the shadow of the alcove freezing Iron Bull in place, she stopped mid stride noticing him and cheekily tipped her ridiculously feathered hat before waltzing back to the tavern. 

He was a bit dumbfounded to say the least. That poor scout couldn’t be older than forty and yet he heaved and panted like a man twice his age. Infamy indeed…..

Grabbing what little sense he had left Iron Bull lumbered towards the scout still partially hidden in the alcove.

“You alright, buddy?” at the deep timber of his voice, the already frantic man looked like he could have jumped out of his skin.

“I…I-I don’t know…” came his halting yet honest reply. Closing his mouth a few more times trying to form words, he finally decided on “I think I need another drink…..or several….” Iron Bull laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, the poor scout smiling up at the great grey man as if he was the cat that got the cream, Iron Bull rather thought him the canary lucky enough to only lose a few feathers….

_____

The third time Iron Bull came upon the Captain, both her and Josephine’s dark heads were conspiratorially close as they whispered in hushed tones in the sidelines of another political gathering in Skyhold. Some boorish prattling noble was waxing and waning poetic political promises while the Inquisitor nearly fell asleep on his great raised chair.

Iron Bull tucked his hulking mass against a cool wall behind the two women. Josephine’s clear feminine giggles delightfully endearing as she gently touched shoulders with Captain Isabela in a playful nudge rather than reprimand her for an ill made comment. The familiarity between the two women intrigued him, as Ruffles, which Varric affectionately called her, was so painfully business oriented it was a treat to see her acting like the young woman she truly was.

Josephine preened under the attention, and yet her posture was carefully poised like she wasn’t being openly seduced in front of many, her ear and eyes tuned in on the woman next to her, but her face was the picture of polite interest as she observed the gathering. The Captain grew bolder, slowly leaning into Josephine’s side, no doubt nosing her perfumed hair, and a calloused sun deep hand slid from Josephine’s lower back to her right flank. Isabela’s hand just barely cupping the underside of the young Antivan’s breast through her ridiculously layered clothes.

Iron Bull could imagine the heat radiating from the Captains palm, as if her own hand was upon his breast. Josephine’s slight intake of breath through her nose was not missed as she stood very very still lest someone notice their little dance. Isabela slowly pulled the young woman to her side, aligning their flanks from breast to hip as she whispered into the Ambassadors ear. Josephine could have become a statue in that moment, for Iron Bull did not think she moved even to breathe. The slow smattering of applause that rose up in the hall freed Josephine from the siren’s snare, the politician was thankfully done and the people of Skyhold could finally move before the next political opponent took to the floor. 

Still tucked into the Captains side, Josephine turned both her eyes to the captain, mirth wrinkling the corners and a sweet mischievous smile painted on her lips. 

“Captain Isabela, I have a contract I should wish to place before you, the Inquisition could use a sailor of your….set skills” she all but purred, “see me in my office before the days end and we can go over details?” The Ambassador left the question hanging in the air.

Isabela released the young woman but captured an elegant hand before bringing it to her dark full lips. “Of course Ambassador, I’d be pleased to assist the Inquisition” she bowed with a finality over Josephine’s hand, looking into equally gold eyes and graced the knuckles with a seemingly chaste kiss.

The small shining spot of saliva glimmering from the Ambassadors knuckles told Iron Bull otherwise. “Well fuck”, he thought to himself as the Captain turned on booted heel and swaggered off to Maker knows where.

Hours later, Iron Bull was sneaking out of the kitchens having just persuaded one of the kitchen maids to part with a few extra meat pies, and a hearty romp in the back storeroom. A pie in each palm and some cradled in his thick arms, he passed the underlit door of Josephine’s study and library, soft high mewling ghosting through the wooden cracks. Iron Bull paused only to hear a low satisfied moan and the wet meeting of mouths, a small crash, like books teetered on a desk edge, Josephine’s soft giggles and Isabela’s deep throaty laugh. He left the women to their games, shoveling a pie in his suddenly dry mouth while hurrying off to find his Chargers and a deep pint of ale.

\-----

The fourth time he found her, she was all but lounging across a tavern bench regaling Varric, Blackwall, Cassandra, and a thoroughly inebriated Sera with a daring tale, something about a stolen shipment, fucking a dock official, ruining a noble’s daughter, and pirates of course. In one hand she flourished a sloshing tankard like a deadly weapon, the other hand animatedly detailing the story she wove.

Surrounded by Skyhold scouts and staff she held everyone captive, simply with artful storytelling; an escape to another life, a portal to a new and dangerous world, the taste of brine and clean sharp air practically tangible as various mugs of alcohol were pressed to enraptured lips as her smooth voice curled around the heads of all within ear shot. She’d be absolutely devastating if she were born under the Qun. A true hissrad, an even more cunning spy and saboteur and as Iron Bull sunk his massive form to a small bench she acknowledged him with a nod and continued animatedly with her tale.

Skinner pressed a mug into his hand, straddling the bench beside him, equally enthralled and laughing with the crowd; Isabela’s parting gift to a smug noble had Sera and Blackwall coughing into their mugs with mirth. Slowly the night moved on, people fell or stumbled to their beds and the Captain out-drank them one by one, appearing no less worse for wear even though her tankard had been refilled many times.

Soon it was but Iron Bull, the Captain and a few tavern maids cleaning up about them. She signed and unfurled her long corded legs upon the table, digging through a coat pocket and producing a small orange. She was the picture of relaxation, her golden eyes flicked up to him as he brought the mug of bitter brown ale to his lips again, “So, you finally decided to stop being my personal Qunari shadow?” 

Iron Bull stopped mid-pull of his drink and regarded her over the brim, a small smirk graced her lips as a tanned finger pierced the dimpled flesh of the orange, it’s juices welling obscenely around her digit. “At first I thought you a spy, sent to check on me for my previous bad behavior in Kirkwall….now I wonder, if my bad behavior is what brought you to me?” she left it hanging there in between them, as she slowly undressed her orange.

“I’ll admit it was coincidence to witness your….antics” Iron Bull rumbled deeply while rubbing a thumb over a rivet in his mug “of which deeply amused me.” He offered her a smile one she matched with sharp canines peeking from full lips. “Usually it’s me tumbling others with wanton disregard”

They laughed together then, understanding one another simply. Popping an orange wedge into her mouth “I’ve heard of you” she chewed carefully “ the Sisters speak of you in very high regard” she tipped her tankard before taking a swig.

Iron Bull laughed softly, “they are easy to please, I’ve got to maintain my reputation somehow…” they both laughed again. 

“A big brutish fellow, like yourself, must be the talk of everyone’s wet daydreams” Isabela all but sighed over her tankard; he was unsure if she was teasing him or being sincere, and yet the lingering look that followed as she raked him from ankles to chin caused him to still all movement under her appraising gaze.

He replied with a very simple “I am” offering the Captain a quirked brow and scintillating smirk. Isabela threw back her head and laughed long and hard from the belly, revealing pearled teeth and a single glinting bead centered in her tongue, a compliment to the one below her full lower lip. 

“Oh yes” she breathed “ I do believe will we get along just fine.” She untangled her strong legs, enough to envy the finest of Asaarash and left the skin of her orange on the table, the leather coat tails swirling about her calves as she made her way over to him making sure to move along the side with his good eye. At her movement he let his mug and arm rest on the table, keeping his posture open but eyeing her approach with a calculating glance.

Isabela stopped before him, her jacket hem whispering against his knee, looking down she filled her golden eyes with him. Noting his scars, the ale on his breath, the dilation of his eye, the hard pack of his muscles; usually he preened under such a look, but now with the Captain so close he felt an odd sense of appraisal he hadn’t felt since his boyhood years. 

With careful ease, Isabela straddled his right thigh, propping a sharp elbow upon his breast and resting her chin upon her fist, never breaking eye contact. Now, nearly nose to nose, it was as if she was purposefully boxing him in. The same warm, calculating look and devious smile pulling up at the corner of her lips. The heat radiating off of the Captain was obscene, whether from lust or drink or both he couldn’t tell, but it nearly matched his own and he had to stop himself from flexing his massive thigh to discover which.

‘Saar…….chok saar’ Iron Bull thought to himself. This was easily a woman who could kiss or kill him, hell even both at the same time. The notion was absolutely appealing…Isabela was a maelstrom, as beautiful as she was dangerous and he was damn tempted to find out what lay at her depths. Carefully, he moved a massive hand to her waist, letting its weight rest there at the juncture of hip and torso; Isabela sighed scooting herself closer to his massive chest, her knee dangerously close to his groin. 

“and just how do you think we will get along?” Iron Bull offered his words ghosting over her face, his heavy hand slowly increasing pressure upon the Captains waist.

“Famously” she whispered and closed the distance between their mouths. 

Iron Bull was swamped with heat and sweet tasting lips. Isabela’s beverage of choice that night had been mead and the honey liquor paired with her orange sent his mind reeling to days of his childhood, being bribed with candied skins in return for good behavior from the Watchers. He sunk into the sudden nostalgia and sweet taste of Isabela’s full lips. Her tongue sought his own and he found he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of her piercing, a small reminder of the intrigue that was the woman sitting upon his thigh. 

A pinprick of pain caused him to pause, opening his good eye to see hers staring back at him with the broken skin of his lip held between her teeth. Slowly she gradually applied pressure with her teeth until his pupil flared and Iron Bull sucked in a quick breath, and to think she had only just met him and already she was categorizing his tastes.

Reciprocating, Iron Bull brought both hands to Isabela’s waist, their reach easily engulfing her and moving them downwards to cradle her ass. Wrapping her lips around his bitten one, she hummed and began to circle it with her tongue, easily bringing more blood to the surface. Iron Bull groaned and dragged her body the rest of the way so the junction of her legs met his hip, the heat of her corded thigh resting against his eagerly swelling member. ‘Damn it’s nice to play with fire again’ he thought to himself eagerly coaxing Isabela to make small circles with her hips, the liquid heat of her soaking into his striped pants. 

Iron Bull adored flushing virgins, the occasional cook maid, the lusty wife long since bedded, but there was something so exciting about a mature woman who knew what she wanted. An experienced player was few and far between, especially one’s whose exploits matched or exceeded his own. And be damned if Captain Isabela wasn’t just that.

The hands that were currently kneading her ass itched to be filled with other flesh, removing one he inched it slowly up her spine to the base of her neck. Iron Bull moved his lips to her ear and throat, nosing the heavy gold disks she wore in her lobes out the way so his mouth could suck small hidden bruises to the thin skin there. She was sighing into his own ear and returning the favor. His thick fingers finding the knot that held her wrap bodice together.

A sharp canine pierced the fleshy lobe of his grey ear, a low growling voice warning him in Qunlat, “Never without my permission.”

Iron Bull froze. A sudden strike of fear went through him, fear mixed with arousal was a heady brew. He very slowly pulled back from the woman sitting in his lap. Perhaps she hadn’t know the effect it had on him, and as always he fell back on his humor to relieve a situation.

A slow smile plastered itself over his face, his mouth and ear bloodied, his dick hard and tenting his pants, his hand still curled around the base of her neck and her jungle cat eyes fixing him to the spot. “Meravas, Tama” he chuckled mockingly.

Isabela cocked her head at him, a truly knowing curl of her lips noting she knew exactly what he had just called her. Iron Bull felt another jolt of ice go through him; ‘Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit…’ Isabela caught his eye with her own and casually leaned back so she could rest her elbows on the table behind her while still sitting in Iron Bull’s lap, his hands sliding back to her waist to support her.

“I think you and I should have a nice heart to heart chat, Imektari” she teasingly rubbed her knee along the growing wet spot staining his pants. Her eyes calculating once again, her lips swollen with kisses and the heady scent of their arousal seeping into their skin. Iron Bull was fucked, he knew it, and he couldn’t fucking wait.

_ _ _ _ _  
Qunlat time!

Asaarash: A special breed of horses from Rivain that are used by the Antaam  
Saar: "Dangerous"  
Meravas: "So shall it be/Yes"  
Tama: short for Tamassran, colloquially "Mother/Mom"

Imektari: "Child"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think you and I should have a nice heart to heart chat, Imektari” she teasingly rubbed her knee along the growing wet spot staining his pants. Her eyes calculating once again, her lips swollen with kisses and the heady scent of their arousal seeping into their skin. Iron Bull was fucked, he knew it, and he couldn’t fucking wait.
> 
>    
> Time for a little Iron Bull exposition; the Qun, restrictions on intimacy, Bull's love of fucking and a new desire he has to come around to.
> 
> ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A soft cough interrupted them.

The bar maids where finished with their end tasks for the night and wanting to go to bed themselves.

Isabela flashed Iron Bull another cutting smile, rubbing her knee idly against his straining inseam. "Well, Iron Bull, that was oh so fun...but I truly think I need to turn in for the night if I'm to assist Josie with her little contract come dawn." she feigned a yawn, rising up and leaning forward to place a teasingly chaste kiss on the tip of his curved nose.

Turning to the maids she fished two gold coins from a hidden pocket, pressing one each into a upturned palm. "See you soon Mary, thanks for saving me a bottle." she pinched the cheek of the plump redhead receiving a giggle for her troubles and headed to the stairs. Pausing at the banister, she leaned upon it her arms crossed under her breasts emphasizing their weight.

"I'll be seeing you, Imektari. I look forward to our next meeting" with a swish of leather coat tails she ascended the stairs. The sparks of silver at her temples flashing nearly as brightly as her eyes and jewelry, caught in the dying light of the open hearth.

Iron Bull was hardly left wanting, especially by women who wanted him as well. But here he was, sitting in the same position she'd left him in, straining against his pants and desperately in need of plunging himself into something wet and sweet. 'Damn' he thought to himself, grabbing his previously abandoned ale and throwing it back in one large pull.

He stood to his full height, brazen desire still evident and he could care less. Moving towards the tavern door he looked down at Mary, the plump redheaded he liked to bed after a night of drunken frivolity. She beamed up at him, cheeks flushing and gave him a quick once over, eyes lingering on the shape of him under his pants. With an equally smug smile, he offered her the crook of his arm, as if they were simply a pair of courtiers about to stroll the afternoon garden.

Mary's bell like laughter peeled out of her causing her ample bosom to shake, her own plump milky hand dwarfed and standing out in blazing contrast on his heated grey skin. She then flapped a hand at her compatriot, the willowy brunette sniffed, threw her shawl around her and headed into the cold of the evening leaving the mismatched pair to their desires.

Iron Bull woke to the first light of dawn, sprawled half on, half off of a hay stuffed pallet in front of the glowing embers of the tavern hearth. His striped pants were being used as a pillow and his arm supporting the lightly snoring Mary. Her red hair tangled in a post sex brier, pouting lips gently parted and swelling curves tucked tightly against his own, equally naked skin. Iron Bull grinned recalling the night and early morning before, sweet plump Mary was the perfect conclusion after the maelstrom that was Captain Isabela.

He absentmindedly tongued the split in his lip, desire slowly stirring once more the length of him twitching eagerly to life with each pulse of his heart. Untangling himself from his bedmate, he slowly rolled her onto her back and leaned over her; placing searing and descending kisses to her breasts, round belly, until his chin brushed her wiry curls. Mary hummed contentedly still not quite awake, Iron Bull looked up at her from his vantage point at the junction on her thighs, his nose flooding with the scent of them together and gently bit into the soft flesh of her mound.

Mary squeaked and all but jolted straight up, hands reaching out clasping his horns while her eyes where blown wide in sudden waking and surprise. Finally seeing Iron Bull there she laughed softly and let he knees fall aside, releasing his horns and leaning back on her elbows, "Mornin' to ye too.." she slurred with a content smile on her face. Iron Bull returned said smile and dove into his first meal of the morning.

_______

Two days later, Iron Bull was in the training yard with Krem, the thundering of his hammer resounding off of Krem's raised shield in loud cracks off the stone walls. He felt like a thunder dragon himself, ego and other member equally stroked, he was surprised he couldn't spit fire. Fighting or fucking, he couldn't decide which was better...

"What's on your mind Chief?" the Tevinter man panted, taking blow after blow from Bull's stone hammer against his training shield. Iron Bull paused mid swing before continuing his assault. 

"Whadda you mean Krem?" the clack of there weapons filling the space of their conversation. 

"The Captain..." Krem offered, his great corded arms bringing his shield upwards to meet Bull's downward strike "you've been dancing around each other for a month now..." Iron Bull changed his swing chopping diagonally at Krem's right shoulder "no need to take our your frustrations on me!" Krem laughed before gritting his teeth and taking the full blunt of the swing to his shielded shoulder.

Iron Bull dropped the weight of his hammer, pommel resting in his rough calloused palm while Krem wiped the sweat from his brow "She's dangerous..." Krem scoffed in response during Bull's pause "...and sexy as hell" the young man hummed in agreement "what of it?" he rumbled.

"When are you two going to finally tear each other apart?" Krem offered, pulling his sleeveless shirt tail from his breeches waistband to mop his face. Iron Bull noticed a series of healing vertical cuts on the thin skin around Krems hips, laying in perfect straight rows like a field of crops about to seed.

Bull raised his good brow and cocked his massive head towards his second in command. Krem looked down, flushing from the collar of his shirt to his hairline, dropping the hem quickly. Bull raised his brown further, all but demanding an explanation.

"I uhh, I-mm...couldn't pass up on the chance...." Krem all but whooshed his answer out. His eyes shining with mischief and memory. Iron Bull roared with laughter, caging his young charge in the thick bracket of his arm, a large palm ruffling his hair. Krem's laughter was infectious and soon the two mercenaries where shaking and clutching each other laughing at the folly of their situation.

A maelstrom indeed, the Captain swirled through Skyhold devastating or gracing those in her wake. Iron Bull desperately hoped he would feel the waves of her desires upon him again, and soon. Intrigue and infamy, fear and desire, experience, wit, and apparently equally sharp knives. A heady mix that, all in the form of a tanned Rivani Captain with more swagger in her pinky finger than half the rouges of Thedas.

\------

Two weeks had passed and Isabela was on horse back to Skyhold. Her shaggy mountain pony nearly matching the cloudy grey peaks they gradually climbed, he was a round affectionate thing, with deep brown eyes and eager quivering lips that quickly found her stash of fruit in her coat pockets during their first introduction. 

Looking down at the mottled grey skin between her thighs she warmed at the memory of the tavern, Iron Bull's equally solid thigh betwixt her own as fire flooded her veins. On first glance, she had him pegged for a rough and tumble kind of fuck, maybe something with ropes (all Qunari had a thing for ropes, she mused.) But to her great delight, there was something hidden and soft within the great grey beast of a man, something that struck a chord within her own set of desires and something she desperately wished to bring to surface.

Isabela was a woman of many tastes, during her years shes had lovers and bedmates of many shapes, sizes, races, and numbers. Now into her mid-forties, she felt truly comfortable in herself. Comfortable to gauge the interests of any potential partner, whether fighting or fucking. Years of hard labor on her ship has kept her fit and strong, her muscled thighs swelling the seams of her newly acquired pants, arms and shoulders sculpted from heavy ropes and climbing the rigging. She felt she fought and fucked just as well as she had as a younger woman, full of ideals and dreams of self fulfillment.

"Tama..." she whispered softly to herself, her cheeks pinching with mirth. Oh yes, she was definitely going to be meeting with Iron Bull again. They had much to discuss; an ember of heat began to radiate deep in her gut, keeping her warm despite the thinning air as they climbed the clouds towards the hidden keep.

\-------

A small welcome party was gathering at the gates of Skyhold, a new shipment of supplies was arriving today along with the notorious Captain Isabela, recently returned from her mission on the Inquisition's behalf. She was becoming quite the commodity and feature in the Skyhold grounds, albeit her stays were limited to a few days at a time, she was sought out by the Advisers for her skills and experience on the seas. Everyone else had their own reason for wanting to be in the Captain's presence, either for her colorful storytelling or watching her train the recruits deceptive dagger tricks, or simply with the hope of catching her golden eye.

Iron Bull was one of the latter, and he felt no shame in that. A small tendril of anticipation unfurled itself within his belly, reaching towards his throat like a vine to the sun. He swallowed reflexively and willed himself to stay lounged in his favorite chair in the tavern. Having been born inside the Qun, familiar bonding was not allowed, there was no idea or even word for 'family' in the Qun. A male's responsibility ended at conception, the female's at birth; then the children would be passed off to the Tamassrans for careful watch and categorization. 

Iron Bull despised this about the Qun, he longed for connection and had built himself a rag tag family of sorts in the shape of his Chargers. He'd die for every single one of them and almost had on a few occasions, he mused softly while adjusting the patch strap that wrapped around his horn. It was both devastating and elated to be free of the ties of the Qun. Everything he knew and learned had been violently ripped from him, much like the assassin's dagger. But just like that poisoned blade, he threw his childhood memories, his Ben-Hassrath life, and all the teachings of the Qun over the towering outer walls of Skyhold.

It hurt but it was freeing. Like losing a shackle that once gave comfort despite the fact that it was still a shackle and now it was cracked open and useless. He thought back to the Rivani Captain, dark and witty and dangerous, a maturity beyond her actual age, a holistic acceptance of herself not needing anyone's approval. A shiver of submission ran through him, he'd never admit it to anyone but he rather craved not being in control sometimes. Keeping up the face of Ben-Hassrath spy and deadly mercenary Iron Bull was a mantle made from leadership and responsibility, fucking was really the only time he could lay that all aside to develop a momentary connection. A forbidden bridge from one person to another; copulation without the goal of children within the Qun was unheard of and absolutely discouraged. All mated matches where made to create better offspring with singular intent of serving the Qun.

If you felt randy you either meditated or were sent to the Tamassrans to 'relieve you of your burdens'. He suppose that is how it all started, the Tamassrans, the first physical touch of encouraged intimacy.....it left him as a teenager with a gaping hole to fill. A need for connection and physical touch. And now, with golden eyes, wicked fingers, and sharp canines floating around his head Iron Bull desperately hoped to satisfy his curiosity and desires. To say he wanted the Captain was too simple, he wanted to be destroyed by her. 

To be willingly taken apart, stripped bare, flogged within an inch of breaking and carefully put back together again with gentle kisses and words of affection slipped softly under his thick skin. Iron Bull had never admitted his desire to submit like this. He had figured his break away from the submission of the Qun was enough to cover for his more eccentric fantasies, but here was Captain Isabela unraveling all his mysteries without even a questioning glance. He supposed that was half of her dynamic charm and intrigue. 

He couldn't wait for her to corner him again. At that moment there was a ruckus of voices, yelling, calling, horns blaring. The expedition had returned and with it, the figure that surged through all of Iron Bull's reoccurring fantasies. The Captain. Iron Bull completely gave up trying to remain in his chair, the mutual excitement of the entire keep had the air electrified, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. His legs took him halfway to the portcullis before his mind had caught up with his feet. He had no plan. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To say he wanted the Captain was too simple, he wanted to be destroyed by her.
> 
> To be willingly taken apart, stripped bare, flogged within an inch of breaking and carefully put back together again with gentle kisses and words of affection slipped softly under his thick skin.
> 
> ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a strange thing, the excitement he felt. Fine and bubbling like an Orlesian wine, sweet but acrid with anticipation. It turned his stomach and frothed his veins; he couldn't remember the last time he felt such an unabashed eagerness.

It was intoxicating; but he buried it all under a stony face developed by years of training as he stood in the courtyard of Skyhold in hopes of welcoming back the expedition. 

Josephine, a small rustling of ruffles and silks, slipped through the throng, tanned elegant hands clasping her writing slate like a lifeline as she approached the lead scout and Captain Isabela. She looked perfunctory and all business, only here to receive status updates on the expedition. Her pale knuckles, flushed cheeks, and shining eyes that locked immediately on the Captain betrayed her true intent.

Iron Bull couldn't blame her, she actually had a reason to engage socially, to be under that intoxicated golden gaze. A breeze of jealously blew through him; he knew it was childish to want what others had had but in the same breath he knew that she knew that he knew that they both desperately wanted the same thing. Realizing the Captain would be quite busy with her adoring crowds, he lumbered back to the tavern. Something dark and bitter sounded like the perfect remedy; and now, he would just have to wait, to be cornered or....to come crawling on hands and knees begging for release. In that moment, Iron Bull couldn't tell which idea appealed to him more.....

\------

Isabela slung a heavy thigh over the worn leather saddle, her groin pinching with being forced wide for such a long journey; the slight pain a most delicious mirror of one of her favorite past times. Horses where sweet and lovely, especially the dappled grey the Quartermaster continually issued her. She had a feeling that plump old man had a wicked sense of humor, his pale eyes shining with mischief and his tight lipped smile all but disappearing under the carpet of his mustache. 

A thick grey beast with soft inquisitive lips. Yes, humor indeed. Her thighs quivered a little as she set foot on solid ground, either from the journey or anticipation she couldn't determine. She ruffled her grey's mane and patted his neck in thanks, his great heavy head gently colliding with her chest, his soft lips seeking hidden treats in the many pockets of her leather coat. Isabela smiled softy at her grey and fished him a strip of dried mango and felt his velvet lips snatch it instantly from her palm. Isabela thoughts drifted along the expanse of the grey, his skin all to familiar with a certain Qunari she had been thinking quite too much about lately. Horseflesh no longer occupied her mind. Looking at the assembled crowd she spotted the inky mass of Josephine's curls and tucked her momentary disappointment of the disruption of her plans behind a balmy smile. Business before pleasure.

"Ambassador" she called, a gentle arm extended to clasp the Antivan woman's palm with her own. Poor young girl must've run from her office, her palm and brow where damp with effort and Maker above it was a good look. To see the otherwise prim and proper young woman slick with exertion and slightly out of breath was a pretty picture. Isabela remembered fondly their little tryst in the young Ambassadors study, a sudden warmth blooming under her breast. 'Business before pleasure, Isabela.' 

"We are so happy to have you return to us Captain!" Josephine chirped "we hope your venture was a success?" a delightful cock of the Ambassadors head sent a small rising wave of affection through Isabela. Such a sweet, eager dear. 

"Very much so, my dear Ambassador" she dropped the young woman's hand and wrangled her pack from the wide back of her grey, "if it suits you, I'd like to bathe before I deliver my report to the Table..." slinging her bag over her shoulder, Isabela noted a flash of disappointment in Josephine's eyes before she sculpted her face back into the perfect mask of polite niceties. 

"Oh, of course! I shall call for one, it'll be ready for you in your usual room." Josephine stepped to the side and extended an arm, creating the beginning of a path through the throng of the crowd. Isabela handed out smiles and clasped hands like they were gifts through the bobbing sea of human bodies, her tired legs carrying her to the tavern. 

The familiar sight of the dark wood door and slight waft of alcoholic vapors set her mind at ease, a temporary port in the storm. A bath sounded divine. She felt gritty with road dust, it coated her clothes and nose; she'd wouldn't be surprised if she took half of the road with her, hidden in the swirling leather of her coat tails.

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Iron Bull was halfway through his second tankard of bitter when the heavy door opened, harsh sunlight flooded the tavern and the silhouette of the person he most wanted to see filled the frame. That stupid feathered hat, it was like a beacon of depravity. Never subtle nor apologetic as it sailed through the seas of Skyhold's people. A harbinger of haughtiness and the white topped crest of the swirling tide that was Isabela.

The mouthful of ale he had froze in his throat, squeezing his thick neck like the dark dangerous hands he suddenly wished where upon his grey flesh. Gold eyes locked onto one another in the dim, and Iron Bull was finally able to swallow. Isabela's lips pulled into a wicked slow smile "Right where I left you.." 

Iron Bull was stuck a little dumb in that moment, she WAS expecting to see him again, and by the look of the purely predatory grin she had on her face his heart vaulted into his throat with anticipation. He could feel the excitement froth in his veins and he opened his mouth to reply..

"Give me a half past, Imektari, then we will talk. You may come up then." one the word 'up' Isabela's golden eyes flicked to the staircase. She flashed him one more brilliant smile and ascended the wooded stairs, her boot-heels clicking against the warn wood softly drumming to eventual silence once again. 

Bull whooshed out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, he tried to clamp down his overactive thoughts as thousands of scenarios ran through his well versed and highly creative imagination. The Captain had invited him up to her room. And not even a blasted Blight Dragon could stop him from going. He had waited his turn patiently, and finally his curiosity and appetites would be sated. 'Holy Shit" Iron Bull thought to himself, his cock stirred in interest, a gentle pulse of desire flooding his veins until he felt like it would overflow. He knew he was a lusty creature, always had been. The dangerous part of this whole dance was that the Captain plucked more of his secret desires from their chance meetings than he had ever admitted to anyone in person. Isabel was a woman of the world and well versed to say the least; experience paving the way to confidence, confidence that honed her golden eyes sharper than any dagger.

Iron Bull pulled a rough palm across his face, rubbing his jaw and the stubble that resided there. No time to clean up, no time to impress. Not that he really though the Captain would care....but still....the potential appraisal that he could be met with the moment he stepping into that room held his focus. Maker, he wanted her. More than anything in recent memory. A shallow shiver run up his great spine, the mental ghost of her hand appraising the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his arms, her imaginary hand cupping his grey cheek calculating the unabashed desire blazing in his lone eye.

Iron Bull pulled his own hand from his cheek and rested his open palm over himself through his striped pants, half hard with interest and his clothing suddenly too much for his sensitized skin. He should stop before he got too ahead of himself, he probably didn't need to get kicked out the tavern for touching himself in public while his mind wandered. Looking down into the brown depths of his ale, his own reflection revealing a rippling sweet smile that bloomed on his lips. 'Imektari......imektari, imektari' the word was buzzing around his skull leaving warm memories and whispering the promise of a deeper heat from that simple words' impact.


End file.
